Through Different Eyes
by firebird5
Summary: Hmm... wow. An update. This will eventually be a ZAGR. CH. 2 and 3!
1. Shattered

Okay, this is only my second fic. I hope it doesn't suck too much. This is kind of.... well, it IS my life. The first chapter or so, anyway. This is some extensive therapy for me. I'll be giving this a more happyful ending than my version actually turned out. This will eventually be a ZAGR (I can't believe myself), but I don't know how risque I'll get with it.  
  
Disclaimer: You know the drill. On with the show.  
  
  
  
  
  
Her heartache was beyond repair. Yes, fire-and-brimstone Gaz had a broken heart. After living for 18 years in a world as harsh and stupid as this, how had she allowed herself to trust enough to bear her heart to someone?  
  
'Because Jok is perfect,' she thought between throat-burning sobs. After liking him more and more over the past eight and a half months, a coworker at Slave Haven had told her that Jok knew that which she had tried so desperately to conceal. After a fifteen minute phone call, her life had come unraveled. He'd known, without saying a word, for seven months. He was so *decent* about everything. A real gentleman, despite his fishnet and green hair. After *her* experiences with the male species, he was like a ray of hope shining for men everywhere.  
  
And then he had to go and be all religious on her. She could really care less if he had a religion or not, and actually did think it was good for him to be so devoted to something. Like she was to her Game Slave. But he didn't think he was supposed to be with anyone. He wasn't looking for anyone AND wasn't interested until he was ready to marry. Not only that, but he couldn't see it happening, either.  
  
'*I* can see it,' Gaz thought bitterly, rolling on her bed over her phone, which pressed sharply into her back. She ignored it. 'I've been able to see it for months. What's *his* problem?'  
  
Gaz inhaled deeply, shuddering from the effort. She wiped her eyes on the pillow she'd been squeezing, which was now rather flat. Briefly, she thought of calling Zim. Much to Dib's dismay, the two had become rather good friends over the years. Although Zim and Dib were no longer at each other's throats, they were still less than fond of each other.  
  
They had become friends almost accidentally. At lunch one day in freshman year...  
  
(cool time warp effect)~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Zim moped sullenly over to where she sat alone. Gaz had seen him coming, but kept playing her Game Slave and ignored him as she would have ignored her brother. As she played, she slowly began to wonder, 'Why is *he* sitting here? And why isn't he screaming about doom and world conquest?' This was so unlike him. A violent opposite.  
  
This lasted for fifteen minutes before she raised her eyes to meet his. "So, what did you do with Zim's body when you killed him?"  
  
Zim raised his head, and gave her an inquisitive glare. "What are you speaking of, human?" He spoke more calmly than he had any previous day.  
  
Gaz sighed, exasperated. "What's *wrong* with you? Did Dib finally get proof that you're an alien?" She knew, of course, that he was an alien. It had been a little hard not to notice when she had gone to rescue Dib from Zim's space station lab. She truly didn't care though. He usually left her in peace.  
  
Zim's head sunk again. "They... they sent me here as a joke. That's all I am to them. The armada will never come, and they don't want me to ever come back. They-" His voice shook as he fought tears. "They think I'm 'the poorest example of an Invader ever to be created on Irk.'"  
  
He looked on the verge of collapse. Gaz slipped her Game Slave into her shoulder bag. She stood. "Come with me, Zim." She began to walk out of the cafeteria.  
  
He looked up after her, puzzled by her actions. "What-"  
  
Gaz spun, glaring at him with amber eyes. "Are you coming?"  
  
Normally, she knew, Zim would have refused to take anything resembling orders from a human. But this was obviously not normal. She knew exactly what to do.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Gaz had taken him to her house, where she had shown him the wonders of splatter painting, music, and arm wrestling. They all seemed to work wonders on his shattered little ego, and he was soon ranting about how he would beat her next time they arm wrestled. She had even smiled a few times.  
  
Zim had come to her before. Now she was the one in distress. Gaz had never known anything so painful. She hated to admit the need to have someone there, but it was too dangerous for her to be alone....  
  
She rolled over again and picked up the phone.  
  
  
  
_________________________________________________________ Okay, in case you're wondering, she found out Zim was an alien for sure in 'Bloaty's Pizza Hog.' At least, she sees him out of disguise and stuff. And 'Jok' is the altered name of a certain other person. I thought it would help for me to see him as a weight-lifting, ball-throwing freak (no offense to sporty peoples). Do you like so far? TELL ME!! 


	2. The Pain of Kindness

Yes, I am still alive, and I still write stuff. The continuation of this story has been sitting in my writing folder for ages, and I figured I should stop being lazy and get it out there. I'm desperate for love from strangers. That means you HAVE to review this or I will lose my mind and kill you all. Even though I only know your pen names. . . well, forget the killing, I guess.  
  
I really hope Zim seems at least a little IC for this. . . he's tough to write. Um, I will hopefully start more stories soon! Yay and stuff! Okay, I'm gonna shut up now.  
  
firebird  
  
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RING! RING! RING!   
  
Zim turned from the toilet and glared at the phone. He'd been trying to upgrade his defenses all night and kept getting side-tracked. First the Dib-thing trying to break in. Then the horribly insane knife salesman, whose extraordinary powers of selling Zim could not resist. GIR, of course, went running after the salesman, only to get hit by a frightening mutant toddler on a trike. It had taken Zim the better part of an hour to hammer out all the dents, then another two to repair GIR's memory chip and eyepiece (which had a sucker attached to it).  
  
And just as he was trying to get back to work. . . RING! RING!  
  
Zim sighed again and went to pick up the phone. "Yes?"  
  
"Z-zim?" someone on the other end stammered. The voice was almost familiar, but sounded very distraught.  
  
"Who is this?"  
  
"Zim, it's ME."  
  
Zim could have smacked himself. He recognized that tone right away. "Sorry, Gaz. You sound. . . different. Is something. . . not good?"  
  
Zim heard her breath shudder into her lungs, and he could tell that she shook all over. "Yes. I. . . talked to Jok."  
  
"Hmm. . ." Zim whispered, plotting already. He quickly remembered his friend in pain. "I take it that things went bad."  
  
"Horrible. He was so nice. I hate him for that. I wish. . ." she took a deep breath, then spoke in anger. "I wish he would have been really mean so that I could hate him. But instead, I hate him for being nice."  
  
"Eh?" Zim was extraordinarily confused. What could she possibly mean? "What's the difference? Either way, you hate the creeping butt monkey, so-"  
  
"There is a BIG difference, Zim," she snapped, almost sounding like herself again.  
  
"Well, he must be a truly pathetic creature to have done this to you. Worthless meat bag. I will show him what happens when he steps in the path of an Irken Invader. I'll-"  
  
"Zim!" Gaz's demanding voice broke him out of his rant. She sighed, then continued. Zim could have sworn she sounded even worse than before. "Can you just. . . come over? I. . . don't want to be alone." She suddenly became very quiet. "I don't trust myself."  
  
Zim started. He knew what she was implying. Shortly after he had learned of his banishment and Gaz had befriended him, he had accidentally learned about some of her less-than-healthy habits. Her arms were littered with numerous tiny scars, proof of the pain behind her facade. Gaz had always refused to discuss it, but Zim knew that the slightest thing could set her over the edge.   
  
"I'll leave right now. Listen to me, Gaz. Leave your room. Sit downstairs and wait for me to get there. You shall feel the full extent of my wrath if you are still upstairs when I get there. Do you comprehend?"  
  
She sniffed. "Okay."  
  
The line went dead. Zim rushed out the door. 


	3. A Friend's Comfort

Hmmm........................ ................. another chapter! I just felt like there should be one here. This is a bit longer than the others.   
  
Go read it now.  
  
She opened the door before he could even knock. He looked up to her in surprise, like a dog caught in the flower garden. He stood straight, taking her in. Gaz ran over herself mentally: hair in disarray, tear-streaked face, fuzzy black blanket surrounding her from the shoulders down. Not like she had anyone to impress. If she could help it, no male would ever look at her like THAT again, lest their heads be immediately absent of eyeballs. And their most precious appendages slowly severed by a 16-wheel semi.  
  
Gaz waited while he quickly looked her over. When his eyes finally met hers, she saw his pain. The sorrow he held within himself, all for her. A thought suddenly entered her mind: that perhaps he cared more about this than she did.  
  
"Gaz," he whispered, moving forward to comfort her. She suddenly felt everything rush back: fear, betrayal, torture, pain. And above all was the feeling that she was gone. The box Gaz kept herself in had been ripped open, and her soul burned out from within. There was nothing left of her.  
  
Surrendering to the agony, she fell into her friend's arms, sobbing for everything she had ever lost.  
  
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Zim stood solidly in the doorway, knowing Gaz needed his support now more than ever. For her sake, he kept back the part of him that wanted to fall to the floor, to scream at injustice and shake in anger. Instead he held her fragile body tight as she shook. His head sank onto hers, pressing her cheek onto his shoulder, as though he could suck her pain out through it. *If only,* he thought bitterly.  
  
When her sobs seemed to recede a little, he cautiously moved them from the doorway to the couch, steadying her weak frame against his smaller one with both arms. He sank first, allowing Gaz to lay back on him, legs curling onto the rest of the couch as she continued crying. After a few more minutes, he took a deep breath.   
  
"Do you want to talk?"  
  
Gaz inhaled with a shudder, tears still falling. "N-no," came her sullen reply. "Will. . . will you just stay here with me? I don't want to be alone."  
  
She hadn't even needed to ask. Zim would have stayed, regardless of the possible threat to his health. In response, he twisted so that he was lying next to her on the couch, holding her from behind. With all of his feelings conflicting in his little Irken brain, the one thing that kept him where he was at was her need for a friend. She had been there for him before, and maybe later. . . He sighed softly from behind her.  
  
"I'll be here."  
  
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Dib trudged clumsily down the stairs, rubbing his eyes before putting on his round glasses. He shuffled through the living room, noting that Gaz had fallen asleep on the couch again. A second pair of arms wrapped around her torso. He continued into the kitchen.  
  
Throwing some frozen bread into the toaster, his groggy mind began to register things around him. The sun angled into the kitchen perfectly, setting the time at about 9 am. The blanket usually draped over the couch was missing. . . he now recalled Gaz wrapped up in that and a couple extra appendages. The carpet by the stairs was marked red from the spaghetti he'd dropped-  
  
Dib's mind flew back to Gaz on the couch. His eyes flashed open at he thought of those extra arms. But. . . she wouldn't. . . would she?  
  
As much as he didn't want to, Dib knew the only thing to do was to look again. Maybe he just hadn't seen it clearly.  
  
He moved cautiously back to the couch. He stood behind it hoping that Gaz wouldn't beat him too severely if he woke her. Another step forward. . .   
  
*CHK!* The toast popped up, scaring Dib out of his sneaky state and into defense state. He shouted and jumped. Gaz flew upright with a scream, falling onto the floor, her head nearly missing the coffee table. Zim snapped to a stand on the couch, letting out a battle cry as he prepared to chop down his adversary bare handed.  
  
Dib stared. And stared. ZIM. Zim and Gaz were. . . No! He couldn't allow it. Not here, not now, not ever.  
  
"Get out before I shish kabob you, alien."  
  
Zim glared at Dib from his elevated position. "There is much to be explained, Dib-worm. Your puny brain does not comprehend this situation. I-"  
  
Dib didn't care what he had to say. He rushed toward his enemy, intent on shoving Zim off balance. "Get out, Zim! Now! I don't care what you have to say, I'll slice you open before you can even breathe!"  
  
Zim hopped nimbly off the couch, moving to open the front door. "I'll call you later, Gaz-"  
  
Dib lost it. "You will not EVER come near my sister! If I ever see anything like THAT again, your corpse will hang from my bedroom window! Get out, out, out!"  
  
The green-skinned space being was gone before Dib could say another word. He let out his anger in a triumphant breath, turning to see. . .   
  
. . . Gaz glaring at him with the fire of a thousand suns.  
  
You likey? You tell me. I have a few ideas of where to take this, but I'm not sure which path I'll take. Give me input or ideas, whatever. Tell me if you hate this, too. I won't hold it against you.  
  
Too much. 


End file.
